[center]77th of Zieliah, Year 698
Phoenix Tower; in the Dungeon[/center]
Creaking, sagging stairs wound into the depths of the great pit, affording the Seeker of Secrets a way down into the undercroft of the Phoenix Tower. To call it a stairway was to embellish; the flight down into the dungeon was more aptly described as a series of half-rotten planks fixed against the walls of a great crevasse beneath the base floors of the citadel. Vaulted columns rose up from the rocky surfaces to support the foundation of the Phoenix Tower above. Torch sconces had also been affixed to the walls of the deep chasm, glowing like stars against the dark expanses far above. Whereas dungeons and stockades in most castles and citadels were naught but reserved segments of the basement, Phoenix Tower's dungeons seemed to be a natural formation - a craggy ravine in the mountain that the tower had simply been built on top of. These sorts of crevasses and grottoes could likely be found underneath much of Skyhaven, giving rise to the unsavory Undercity beneath it.

Upon arriving at the landing at the bottom of the dungeon's stairs, Heldan discovered that while the tower's dungeons were clearly better controlled than the Undercity, they were in many respects every bit as unpleasant. Droplets of moisture fell from the humid walls of the grottoes, falling down into fetid puddles at the landing. A small, shallow pond had formed at the very bottom of the stairway, leaving the Seeker no option but to traipse through the muddy water and follow a trail of tacky bootprints embedded into the silt. The Royal Guards standing vigil along the entrances to the grotto nodded in courtesy as the cloaked Seeker scurried past - the disdain for their miserable post quite evident on their faces.

"Canary Keeper's down the passage, second portal on the right... if that's who yer lookin' fer." A bored sentry directed Heldan, pointing down the dripping cave with his halberd.

Indeed, it was the so-called Canary Keeper that Heldan sought. Dungeonmaster Mork Harmun, Heldan had learned, earned his nickname for his apparent talent of coaxing his victims to "sing like canaries", divulging any secrets that they might try to keep to themselves. The cage-like gibbets in which many of his prisoners languished, the Seeker presumed, certainly helped establish the Dungeonmaster's macabre namesake. He was easy enough to find; anguished wails echoing through the deep lead the Seeker to the Canary Keeper with ease.

The Keeper's chamber was a foul enough place: an open grotto branched off from the main corridor. Small, dripping stalactites formed a dismal ceiling from whence cruel and cramped gibbet cages hung from chains. Swirls of blue smoke wafted upward from a number of braziers filled with wicked iron rods and brands glowing with incandescent heat among the coals. Through the damp, smokey haze, daylight shone through in a solid golden beam from a chisel-hewn merlon that fell upon the floor of the grotto and illuminated the whole of the chamber. Basking in this ray of sunlight was the Canary Keeper himself, warming an iron poker amongst the coals of brazier.
He was a fat, tall man clad in a studded tunic of boiled leather, with a scraggly, unkempt beard that carpeted his neck rather than his chin as a proper beard would. A jowled face with an upturned, porcine nose gave a malign grin as he dug the head of the rod through the crackling coals before pulling it from the flames and approaching a gibbet inhabited by an emaciated prisoner.

"What do you want from me?!" The prisoner howled, rocking the cage in a futile attempt to escape. "I don't know anything! Someone stop this man!"
The Canary Keeper responded by whistling a cheerful tune and he thrust the glowing end of the rod into the cage. The hiss of searing flesh and an anguished wail rang through the grotto., accompanying the Keeper's sappy whistling. Were it not for his duty in the dungeons, it would most probably be the Canary Keeper locked in one of these gibbets.

"Master Heldan," the Keeper acknowledged as he left the poker to heat up in another brazier. "I've been expecting you. Waited all morning for you to see him."
"I understand two assassins were captured in the night," Heldan responded with cold purpose, "where are they?"
"[i]One[/i]. The guards dispatched the other, they had little choice. I heard that he made an astounding mess before they finally slew him. Killed a Houseblade and eleven Royal Guard trying to reach the Regent, he did. Would have been a pleasure to make him [i]sing[/i]." The Keeper reported wistfully
"The [i]surviving[/i] assassin?" Heldan reminded curtly.

"Of course, Master Heldan. Right this way."

The chained mace on the Canary Keeper's belt jingled with each step as he guided the Seeker across the cavern to a single cage bearing a worn, tired looking mass of black shredded robes and pieces of crisp dried skin that remained from the old 'face' mask. The assassin sat with his legs crossed and his face under the shadows of his upturned hood, dark red wet patches covered the clothes and were visable from the surrounding torches bright flicker. A vibrating hum was emitting from the assassins throat as he awaiting further beatings, his ears perked at the sound of the hollow footsteps among the screams of other prisoners. The Seeker approached the cage, inspecting the suprisingly serene figure trapped within.

"Not too close, Master Heldan. Guards patted him down and such, made sure he didn't have a file or some such. I wouldn't be too surprised if he had another blade hidden somewhere. These folk are armed to the bloody teeth."

Keeping a cautious distance from the rusting bars of the cage, the cloaked Seeker studied the assassin within. "What is your name? Will you give me a name, if for nothing else than to allow me to address you?"

A slow nod started fom the assassin as the humming was cut short, a croaking hoarse voice dryly replied, a sense of pain was almost detectable between the syllables of his single word. "water." Heldan reached an open palm to the Canary Keeper, signalling for a waterskin.

"I'm not drinking after him. Not with that shit on his face." The dungeonmaster protested. A vain protest; Heldan's hand seized the skin in his hand and tossed it to the base of the cage - refusing to put his arm within reaching distance of the assassin within.

A gloved hand reached through the rusted bars and lightly grasped the skin, and slowly retracting it back towards the Assassin. The hood was pulled back, revealing the stolen smiling face the assassin still wore, wrinkled and falling apart. With a slow swing the murderer sucked down the water with gusto, letting a few drops fall to his dark painted chin, giving a weak filed sharp tooth smile at the refreshment. With a quick gesture the assassin extended the water skin through the bars as to return the empty container.

"You realize you're going to be replacing that, Master Heldan." The Seeker nodded thoughtlessly, keeping his attention on the prisoner.
The Assassin spoke with a renewed energized voice, now having a clear heavy set eastern accent, "Skinless Ivoni would be my name."

"Ivoni," Heldan repeated. "I trust you are aware that five days prior, King Whiteshorn was murdered in his sleep at the palace in Amplefort... much like you and your comrade tried with the Regent. It was associates of yours, Scorpions, who did this thing?"

Ivoni thought for a moment, flashing light eyes from behind his devilish mask as he spoke, "If a man was to strike another, would you blame his hand, or his arm? No, I suspect you would blame the man. Much as I am but a finger to the hand, wouldn't you much rather waste your time somewhere else?"

"This [i]man[/i] had Flint Whiteshorn killed, he nearly had the Regent slain. I will find the man behind the hands, but I must know first where his fingers go. Who else do your associates aim to murder, Ivoni?"

"While I have a few ideas where [i]your[/i] fingers might go, it is not of my knowledge or ability to answer such accusations, or questions, " Ivoni replied, his voice starting to fade into the sounds of the other prisoners.

"I'll get it out of him." The Canary Keeper snarled, drawing a glowing brand from a brazier. Heldan waved a hand dismissively, shutting the dungeonmaster up.
"Who, then, sought your services?" The Seeker continued. "Who benefits from the death of Lord Whiteshort and the Regent? Who is the man behind the hands?"

"How would you suspect that I would have even been told, myself?" Ivoni proposed willingly, as a small rumble attacked his stomach.

"You and your comrade scaled the better part of the exterior of the Phoenix Tower with naught but steel hooks to murder the Regent. You put yourself at tremendous risk to accomplish this thing... and you expect that I am to believe you when you tell me that you were never told to what end, to what benefit, you were expected to attempt such a thing? You will find that recalcitrance will accomplish little here." The Seeker turned his head briefly to the dungeonmaster stoking the brazier's coals with a brand.

"I ask you again, Ivoni. Who hired the Scorpions to murder the high lords?"

Ivoni began to start ripping off loose peices of his thick black robes, his eyes seemed perplexed behind his human mask. As he began piling the scraps in the palm of his gloved hand he sighed without removing his sight from his palm, "I don't know."

"Surely you have some [i]suspicion[/i]. I would think you an observant one, Ivoni. Surely you have heard, in passing from the hands behind the fingers, what the ultimate aim behind your endeavors might be. A simple guess could save you an extraordinary amount of needless... discomfort. Were you in my position, in what direction would you begin seeking answers?"

"Enough of this tripe." The Canary Keeper growled, plucking the glowing rod from the flames. "I'll make him sing."

With a purposeful grin, the dungeonmaster brandished the incandescant brand and made his way to Ivoni's cage, waving the glowing end menacingly. "Should've talked to the Seeker here. I fear I'm not as friendly as he is." With that, he plunged the burning tip into Ivoni's gibbet and pressed it in. With a quick reaction, Ivoni's gloved hand filled with scraps of cloth grabbed as far up the brand as possible, sending a sizzling sound and horrid smell into the air as the devilish assassin pulled back on the brand while wincing in incredible pain, sending the torturer slamming into the metal bars with a loud clang, popping the mans nose into a bloody mess, and causing him to drop the brand into the cage. In a fluid movement the second hand of the angered demon grabbed the midly conscious man and held him close to the bars, while the other repeatedly stamped the red hot end of the brand into the helpless screaming mans eyes. A fierce smile shone on the Scorpions face as he melded the Dungeonmasters eyes closed forever. A brief paused seemed to promise the end of the horrific act, only to be interupted by the glowing brand being shoved into the poor mans mouth and melting the inside of his mouth with incredible burns, causing the screams to muffle into horrid gags and blood filled croaks. With one final push, the brand was lodged into the mans esophagus. The torturer was let go of, and his thick body hit the ground, the handle of the brand clinking against the stone floor. 

Ivoni shot his enraged gaze towards Heldan, as if daring the man to try and continue what the torturer started.
Boots rumbled through the grotto as a gaggle of Royal Guards emerged on the scene upon hearing the Canary Keeper's "singing" through the cavernous dungeon.
"Kammeth's sake, what happened here?!"

"What in the fook did he do to the Keeper?" Without further comment, the guards levelled their halberds at the assassin in the cage, ready to skewer him. Heldan held forth his palm, staying their blades.

A horrible cackle erupted from the gibbit, "Roman Benedikt happened! He is on the loose, plotting your demise, kill him, kill him! Least, we kill you."

"Remove the corpse with utmost caution." The Seeker ordered over the hysterical prisoner, feeling not the slightest pity for the fallen dungeonmaster. "But do not harm the prisoner."

Dumbfounded, the guards nodded and tugged the Canary Keeper's hefty corpse from the assassin's cage by the feet before unceremoniously dragging him off by his arms and feet.

"We'll be speaking again soon." Heldan concluded, following the guards out of the grotto.